Well! I’ve returned from a splendid weekend road trip. The agenda: eat, explore, eat, ask ourselves if we’re hungry yet, eat whether or not we are, try surfing, snack, eat, drink, snack. As usual, would you care for a few cell phone photos?
Traveling with like-minded people (in this case, a good friend/former roommate) means that lunch stops never involve anything with a drive-thru. Especially not when one is in San Jose–options abound! If you have time to be choosy, be choosy. In my book, every stomach rumble on the road is an opportunity, not a chore. An opportunity to eat something, like, say, hot stone bibimbap at
It’s like Korean paella (plus egg and hot sauce!), and I’m pretty sure I could eat this every day.
Dinner in Monterey? Fish. Naturally.
A hearty breakfast at because your body deserves to be treated before you try to hurl it into the ocean to do something that . A few epic wipeouts later, I’m still washing seaweed out of my hair. But! Surfing was fun. So fun.
Equally appropriate bookend #2 for a surfing adventure? A perfect, frosty beer. If you’re me, this is when you’ll discover your haute new accessory: the lamest wetsuit tan/burn line ever. This? This is nature’s dunce cap, my friends.
Wear it with long sleeves. No one has to know. Conveniently enough, coastal summer nights are still chilly.
A sushi dinner at Yes, yes I do. I especially love you, Red Dragon roll. The spicy tuna matched the color of my hands… No big deal.
Not photographed: surfing (oceans are notoriously not tech-friendly), dessert and cava at hat buying, dive bar-ing, lunch at my favorite and a rendition of “Milkshake” by Kelis by a hilarious and talented bunch of street-performing teenage boys. Amazing.
Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to go put aloe on my appendages and wash some more marine life out of my hair. Tomorrow, I’ll have more to talk about than my stupid burnt hands! Xo.